Clarity
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. And as he lay there cold and wet and alone, John Sheppard knew he had to make it right.


Title: Clarity  
Summary: And as he lay there cold and wet, John Sheppard knew he had to make this right.  
Characters: John, Nancy  
Pairing: John/Teyla, John/Nancy, Teyla/Kanan  
Rating: K -T

There were many things that John didn't understand. They ranged from theoretical astrophysics, to the female psyche. But the thing that he didn't understand most of all was himself. Only hours before, he'd awoken in bed with the beautiful Atlantis sun blazing into his room, alighting it in a mirage of colours he'd never been able to imagine six years before. He'd fully expected to be alone when he woke because, no matter what happened between them, he always did. But as he rose to consciousness, he felt the arms about his waist, the supple flesh beneath his fingers. He'd smiled as he'd rolled over her when she'd joined him in wakefulness. She'd smiled as he'd lowered his lips to hers, as his hands lingered on her body, urging her to him, teasing her tender flesh with nimble fingers as she'd driven him wild with her own. There had been no professions of love or remorse as they'd moved together in untainted harmony, a dance that had become so familiar to them even with their lack of practice.

She hadn't asked him to stay and he hadn't offered to.

Instead they'd lain beside one another speaking of things irrelevant – from Lorne's new hair cut, to Rodney's latest experiments. There was no mention of Grae, or John's commitment to him. There was no talk of Kanan, or what John would do once he returned to Earth. They'd teased one another as they'd showered – some a little more than others -, as they'd tried to dress themselves without succumbing to the residual desires that still coursed through them.

She hadn't been there to see him off and he understood.

But as he sat on the edge of his bed in his newly furnished apartment, he couldn't quite comprehend the events of that day. When he'd arrived at Stargate Command, he'd promptly been herded into the briefing room for meeting after endless meeting with General Landry, the IOA and Homeland Security. He'd been briefed and de-briefed so many times that he felt like he wanted to rip his ears off and leave them in the room so that the rest of his body could go home and rest. And so it was only after he'd managed to leave the SGC, find his way to the apartment that Nancy had secured for him that his mind could think about the events of the previous night.

He really hadn't expected her to show up in his room, let alone ask him to make love to her. He had been ready to never see her again so her appearing in his room was somewhat of a miracle. He groaned as he flopped onto his back. There were so many things that he needed to sift through but all he could think about what the fact that she'd let him leave. He supposed that it wasn't her fault; he'd made the decision too many months ago for it to be changed on the day he left. And, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he knew that the both of them needed time away from the other to try and process all that had happened.

In the space of a day, she'd lost her husband and the father of her child because of John's stupidity and he felt more than a little remorseful for that. John groaned and swiped his hand over his face; he had a child. A child that he'd just left. If it was humanly possible he'd quite happily kick his own backside. He was the most prolific ass in two galaxies. The woman he had loved for nigh on five years had come to him the night before he was due to leave and, although she hadn't asked him to stay, he knew that that is what she had intended. She hadn't tried to influence him by professing love that John was pretty sure she felt for him. Even her admission that Grae was his wasn't an attempt to blackmail him into staying; she had trusted that he would do the right thing.

And he hadn't.

God, he really was an idiot. There were so many reasons that leaving was wrong; even the reasons he'd used to justify leaving seemed ridiculous to him now. He wondered if she would ever forgive him if he did somehow make it back to Atlantis; if the roles were reversed, he didn't think he'd be able to. He didn't think he'd be able to forgive himself. Damn, he hated Ronon right that moment. If the Satedan hadn't taken him aside and had that talk with him, he wouldn't be in this mess; he wouldn't have kissed Teyla in front of her husband and she'd still be happily married back on Atlantis and he'd still be living in blissful, ignorant denial. But things didn't often turn out to well for him and he really should have expected something ludicrously complicated like this before he left; it was only natural.

He sighed and moved to the window, disheartened by the view of tarmac and buildings. Already he missed the watery purity of Atlantis, the knowledge that all he had to do was wander the halls and he'd bump into someone who was glad to see him. The rain glistened in the orange street lamps that he knew he'd have to once again become accustomed to streaming in his window at night, as opposed to endless blackness. These were all things he really wished he'd considered before implementing his stupid ass plan. He dropped his head onto the cool window and watched the rivulets of water streaming down the pane of glass and frowned.

He was an idiot.

Before he'd really thought about it, he'd tackled some of the boxes on the floor, found his running gear and was running down the soaked streets, splashing in water that had gathered in potholes, dodging people and traffic and dog poo. The run wasn't nearly as therapeutic as he'd come to anticipate on Atlantis. And his leg hurt. A lot. As he climbed the stairs to his first floor apartment, he missed the ability to wander the halls to the infirmary and have the on base physiotherapist have a look at his leg.

He really had to stop complaining, he was even starting to annoy himself.

As he moved across the hallway – leaving behind a slick wet trail – he didn't notice the person standing just inside his living room door. He spun around to face the intruder when he felt their breath on his arm and his hand automatically went to his leg where his side arm was. Coming up empty, he stared at Nancy with a confused frown.

"How did you get in here?" She held up the spare key and he nodded. "Ah. What are you doing here?" He asked as he moved around her into the lounge, before changing his mind and wandering to the bathroom.

"I just came by to see how you were settling in," she replied as she followed him down the hall way. "You're limping."

He paused slightly and pursed his lips. He hated when people noticed the limp he acquired sometimes when his body weight seemed to heavy for his leg; it was a reminder of what had almost happened to him and that he had become a liability to his off world team.

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate any further but he could see Nancy's questioning frown. He sighed and rolled his eyes, suddenly irritated by her presence; he really just wanted to be alone. "I broke it on a mission – running aggravates it."

"I see." She nodded and propped herself on the toilet seat when he pulled a towel from the closet. "You look tired, John."

He smirked at her as he rubbed the towel across the back of his hair.

"I am tired, Nancy." She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the cistern. "I've had a long day."

"That's not what I meant."

He sighed and looked away from her as he peeled his soaked fleece over his head, followed by his sopping tee.

"I know."

He caught his reflection and he looked away. He did look tired – old, even. The past three years had taken their toll on him, marring him with wrinkles and grey hair he didn't want to see. His eyes were sunken and dark, his skin blotchy and red from the wind and the rain outside. He really needed a warm bath. He sank against the edge of the tub and folded his arms across his chest, his eyes staring at a spot on the wall just beside Nancy's head.

"Are you really back for good this time?" He nodded mutely and blinked slowly. He really was. "I can't believe it." He shrugged and lifted the towel to his chest, rubbing idly at the water droplets there. "Oh my God." She was standing before him in an instant and John almost toppled over the bath tub as he pulled back in surprise. Her fingers ushered his hands from his body and she traced the ugly pink scar on his side, her eyes wide. "What happened to you?"

"Someone tried to eat me," he murmured as he watched her fingers slide delicately across his skin. He shivered at her touch and she caught his eye. Her fingers stilled on his body and he stared at her, his mind blank except for the feeling of her skin on his.

"Derek and I never got married, did you know that?"

He shook his head dumbly and watched as she lowered her lids, her finger resuming their dance across his skin, eliciting fire with her touch. He didn't respond to her touch but inside his mind was screaming. When she did, he let her kiss him for a few seconds, his mind drawing blanks before he placed his hands on her hips and pushed her from him slightly, shaking his head slowly.

"I can't."

She nodded and took a step back, embarrassment colouring her features. He reached out to her, and gripped her elbows in his hands but she shook her head and pursed her lips.

"I can't believe I let you do this to me, John." He frowned. "I loved Derek. And yet, I still found myself waiting for you to come back to me." John felt a strange sense of déjà vu, only this time he knew the events that would follow would be different. "God," she muttered as she rubbed her face with a hand and let out a low laugh. "You're an idiot, John. A god damn idiot."

He nodded in response to that; he didn't need anyone to tell him that universal truth.

"I know."

She shook her head and walked back and forth in front of him. She stared at him, her eyes taking in his features and John looked away from her scrutinising gaze.

"What has she done to you?"

John frowned and looked back at her, his lips twisted in a confused smirk.

"Who?"

She laughed but John didn't enjoy the sound.

"Teyla." He felt the word like a punch to his gut and he winced as he pushed himself from the bath tub. "You're different since you met her." John frowned again. "When John Sheppard loved me, he pursued me. He came after me and made sure that I knew he was there. The John Sheppard that she has is someone completely different; you're scared of her. You're scared that if you tell her how you feel, she'll reject you."

He laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.

"You have no idea what it's like. You don't know her."

"I know her enough to know that she was waiting for you; even when she was carrying another man's child." John stilled, his hands shaking by his sides. "You were just too blind to see it." She looked at him in disgust and shook her head. "And now it's too late."

He sank to the edge of the tub again, his fists gripping the sides, his knuckles white with the pressure. He breathed shallowly, trying to contain the rage that was trundling through him. He knew she was right but she had no right to be. She didn't know him anymore; she didn't know what he'd been through. But she _was _right. It _was _too late.

"Go." He saw her body sag as frown crossed her brow but she didn't move. He lurched to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his leg. "I said _go!"_

"I want to help you!" She shouted back at him, her own anger clear in her eyes.

"I don't need your help!"

They one another off for a few moments before she pivoted on her heel and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the front door on her way out. He stood there for a few moments in the pure halogen light before he sank to the floor in a flood of remorseful tears. His body shuddered with the ferocity of his wracking sobs, his fist throbbed from pounding the side of the tub and his heart ached with the weight of his knowledge.

And as he lay there cold and wet and alone, John Sheppard knew he had to make this right.


End file.
